


I'll Have You

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyo Jihoon is a vampire, and he likes it. As much as a vampire can like anything, really, since he only has two feelings: hungry, and not-hungry. He sleeps in the dirt, has a favourite tree, and has resigned himself to this life when Lee Taeil walks through the forest, HIS forest, and starts a fascination that changes both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. phantoms

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Yay!!!! I've been trying to look around for some Taepyo supernatural fics love the whole vampire au sadly I haven't found any ;-; so can I request one :p Po being a smexy vampire or werewolf man or something! Haha and a cute little innocent taeilie. I'm not very good with details but ill try my best -3- taeil walking home from work -he lives a cozy little cabin in the woods ir something- and he doesn't know he's being stalked . Po eventually pops up and claims him as his maybe even forcing him a little bit (not enough space! Lol) um maybe some angst here and there ultimately falling for little Taeil and vice versa *3* is that enough details or should I try and make my brain cough up some more lol

Jihoon’s hunger is a beast, raging its way through his skin, pushing all thoughts out of his head except one: _feed_. He knows it’s been a week, knows he will go insane if he doesn’t feed soon.

Still, he doesn’t enjoy it.

Well, that’s a lie. A very large part of him enjoys feeling the life drain out of a living being as he holds it in his arms; enjoys snapping a human's neck and feeling them stiffen up as they die.

But every time he feeds, he loses a little part of his humanity, and it’s that that he hates.

//

He barely even remembers being a human anymore, knows only that this is his life now. Wake when the sun goes down; scrabble out from the dirt where he buries himself every night, traipse into town and find a victim.

He doesn’t even know where he is. He doesn’t really care. He lives in some woods, and they’re _his_ woods. Sure, he shares them with a herd of deer and other animals, but they bow to his presence and run when they scent him on the wind.

He is a predator, and they know it.

//

It’s night and he’s perched in his favourite tree, thinking.

If he strains, thinks really hard, he can maybe remember a family, a mother, a father, a sister, maybe a girlfriend. Their names, though, are lost to time, and this phantom family means nothing to him now. He supposes he loved them once.

God, love, that’s such an alien concept. The only feelings he has now are hunger and not-hunger. Emotions do not come to him like they used to.

And right now, he’s hungry.

He knows he should feed, knows what will happen if he doesn’t, knows he will end up slaughtering children again like last time, which he really doesn’t want to do even though their blood tastes the nicest.

He is a _good_ vampire, he thinks. He only feeds on the weak, the elderly, the ones nature has marked as nearing the end of their lives. He sneaks into their houses, into hospices, into oncology wards, and he is sure that when he takes a life, the relatives weep and cry, but know that death was coming soon anyway.

He spots a deer, pacing through the forest, and before he knows it his fangs extend and his mouth begins to water. The deer won’t satisfy him for more than an hour or two, but right now its heartbeat reaches him on the wind, the hot, wet _thumpthump, thumpthump_ and instantly the bloodlust takes over him and he leaps from the tree, fingers curled into claws, ready to tear, rip, render, feel the hot liquid flow down his throat and nourish him.

He is upon the deer before it is even aware of his presence.

//

Weeks pass, maybe months – he has no way of tracking time, doesn’t really care anyway. This is his life now and he has resigned himself fully to it.

He barely even remembers being turned; that memory is even hazier than those of his human time. He remembers pain in his neck, and then he woke up and he was like this, craving blood.

He knows that he could remember more if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to. He knows if he thinks too hard about the phantom family, if they swim into his vision too often, he will want to find them, want to meet them, and that would just be a disaster.

He’s up his tree again, and lets out a short, sharp bark of a laugh. Wouldn’t that be great? “ _Hi, appa. Hi, umma. I’m a vampire now, I like to eat children, but I don’t do it that often, because that’s bad. I just eat cancer patients.”_

He’d probably end up eating them, anyway, and that’s not something he wants on his consciousness for the next 2000 years… or however long vampires live, anyway. The thing that bit him didn’t speak a word to him, had just fled into the forest, and now he is like an infant, stumbling and falling, trying to work out this new body, new mind, new life.

So for now, he stays in the forest, feeding on deer, squirrels (which are revolting) and, yes, the occasional human.

He doesn’t like it, but he’s comfortable.

//

Two times, he thinks. It’s been two times that he’s eaten children, and each time he sits up until dawn, fighting the tiredness that draws over his bones, and lets himself get burned.

It’s the least he can do, he figures. Those poor children, one a little boy, only 6 or so, the other a girl around 11, gave their lives for nothing, and so he burns his skin until his instincts take over and he buries himself underground.

When he wakes, his skin is still red and blistered, but it’s not enough.

//

He has given a name to the monster that lives inside him – goemul.

The goemul wakes in him when he is hungry, makes his fangs extend, makes his fingernails sharp, makes the world tinged in red. When he feeds, it goes back to sleep.

When dawn approaches, the goemul urges him to sleep, to bury himself in the dirt, safe from the sun’s rays. If he doesn’t comply, the goemul will take over and bury him itself. He remembers his skin peeling, blistering, as his hands dug at the dirt in front of him, only slightly aware of the movements he was making, but very aware that he wasn’t making them.

He knows, but doesn’t want to admit, the goemul is just him.

//

It’s a regular day (or night? Jihoon doesn’t really know what day and night is anymore, only knows the safety of darkness and the fire of daytime) and he is perched in his tree.

He can spend days in that tree, only coming down to sleep. It’s a faithful old oak tree, older than him (how old is he anyway?), with branches that spread wide, like an umbrella (another helpful human memory). It’s one of the tallest trees in the whole forest, and on some days he likes to climb to the top, look out over the tree line and see if he can see where the forest ends.

Even with his new eyesight, he can’t.

Other days, he picks a branch closer to the ground and settles in to watch in complete stillness (another advantage of his body he has discovered; he can sit stock still, not moving at all, for hours on end). He likes watching the animals pick their way through the forest, likes seeing the insects crawling on the forest floor.

He likes watching the animals, he realises, because he likes hearing their heartbeats, even when he’s not hungry. It’s comforting. He is watching a millipede crawl up his leg when he hears something and his head snaps around, fangs lengthening, a snarl bubbling up into his mouth.

This isn’t an animal noise, or a forest noise, no, this is a human noise and sure enough as he focuses he hears footsteps crunching on the leaves.

His inner clock tells him it is 2 hours away from dawn. What the hell is someone doing here, in _his_ forest? He’s not even hungry, but his mouth begins to water anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to get in another feed…

And then he freezes as the person comes into view.

The man is short, shorter than him, with black hair, a baggy shirt, and round glasses. He is trotting along the path, _Jihoon’s_ path, like he owns it, and instantly Jihoon fucking hates him… but is fascinated by him too.

And then the smell hits him.

The man’s blood smells like roses and red wine. Jihoon didn’t know that he knew those scents before now, but apparently he does, and his body tells him that is what it smells like, and it smells like heaven. Silently, in a trance, he jumps to the next tree, and then the next, keeping up with the man, who hasn’t noticed a thing, who is still walking along like nothing is wrong.

Who is he? Why is he in the forest – his forest, at this time of night?

Jihoon sets his mouth into a grim smile and leaps to the next tree. He wants to find out.

//

An hour of walking for this man, an hour of flitting from branch to branch for Jihoon, and they are in an area of the forest that he’s never been to before, and is unfamiliar with. He feels the goemul stir at the closeness of dawn and knows he will have to turn around soon to get back to his part of the forest in time, so as not to burn.

As he drops down silently behind the man, taking one last look before turning around, the man pulls out some keys and there, right in front of him is a house.

Jihoon stares. He hasn’t seen a house in who knows how long, and now here is one, in the middle of the forest, _his_ forest. The man, who has since disappeared inside, is turning on lights that shine through and illuminate the trees surrounding the cabin.

Jihoon frowns. Something is not right here, but he doesn’t have the chance to investigate further, as the goemul is beginning to take over.

He turns and flees back into the forest, back home.


	2. relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon pays a visit to the cabin but gets more than he bargained for.

The moment he scrabbles himself free from the dirt and stands up, cracks his neck, he remembers.

_The man._

His curiosity is piqued, and he knows he can’t stay away now. That scent that Jihoon has never smelled before, that scent that makes him hungry and gooey inside, that scent is all through the forest – _his_ forest.

Jihoon sets off, knows he will not be able to sit peacefully in his tree without knowing this man, seeing this man again.

//

It takes him half an hour to run there, once he has found the scent, that intoxicating blend of red wine and roses. He isn’t restricted by trees or human speed, so he runs as fast as he can, enjoying feeling the air on his face and seeing the blur of trees as they go past.

He reaches the clearing and pauses, fangs throbbing painfully in his gums, aching to push through. The goeumul stirs at this, like it always does in times of danger, and Jihoon feels his fingernails sharpen.

 _No_ , he says to himself. The man isn’t here, Jihoon could tell that instantly. There are no fresh scents and Jihoon isn’t worried about being attacked.

So why is he so tense?

He stalks over to the cabin, puts a hand on the door and pushes. It opens instantly, and he thinks it is unlocked, only to see when he looks down that he has snapped the metal lock clean in two.

 _Shit_. He had wanted to come and look around without the man knowing anyone was there, but he had messed that up now.

He steps through the doorway and breathes in the stale air of inside. He hasn’t been in a house in… years, probably. He supposes he used to live in one, supposes that is what is normal for humans.

But what of this human? This isn’t normal, surely, living in the middle of a forest.

His eyes adjust to the darkness quickly, and he makes out a small, but homely little residence with just one room. The bed in the corner is crumpled and unmade and without thinking he glides over, lies down, and relaxes into the feathers.

How long has it been since he has slept _comfortably_? The dirt is nice and cool, but it hardly compared to this. He rolls over and buries his head in the pillow, smells the man’s smell, feels his whole body relax.

And then the door opens.

//

Lee Taeil freezes. There is something on his bed. It looks like a beast, the colour of dirt, but as the thing opens its eyes, he realizes it’s a human and that’s much worse because what the fuck is a human doing here? In his house? Covered in dirt?

And then he looks at the colour of the eyes staring back at him and knows he is about to die. This is no human.

//

Jihoon’s first instinct is to freeze, and he does, staring at the man, who stares back, mouth open. He hears the man’s heartbeat increase and that sparks something in him, triggers an animal reaction, and before he knows it he has flown across the room, thrown the man up against the wall and is poised to bite, fangs at his neck, to feel the life flow into him, that crimson liquid that he wants, no, _needs_ , and then the man speaks.

“Please…”

His voice is high and melodic, and it throws Jihoon totally off balance. He has heard people pleading for their lives before, enjoys it, but this is different. There is no urgency in the man’s voice, just calmness, and that is what makes him stop. He opens his mouth and tries to speak, fails, doesn’t know how to form words after all these years of silence. The man takes the opportunity to speak again.

“Please… Don’t do this.”

Jihoon slowly takes his mouth away from the other man’s throat, looks at him, really looks at him, sees a human up close, intimately, for the first time in years, and he is reminded of everything he misses in them.

The man is insanely beautiful, his dark brown eyes staring intently into Jihoon’s red ones, black hair parted in the middle flopping over his forehead. He is wearing round glasses with no lenses that only serve to hide his eyes.

Jihoon doesn’t move, _can’t_ move, and the man reaches out and places a hand on his filthy, cold cheek, and his eyes widen.

How long has it been since he has been touched? How long since he felt the closeness, the warmth, of another human being, and not eaten them shortly after?

He stiffens, feels his fangs retract, feels the red tinge around his vision disappear.

“What is your name?” The man asks, softly, his hand not moving from Jihoon’s cheek.

But it’s too much, too soon, and Jihoon knows he needs to leave right now before he does something he will regret, so he turns and flees through the open door, running faster than he has ever run before, and as he is running there is wetness on his face and when he wipes it away it’s blood, he is bleeding tears of blood.

//

Taeil collapses, no longer held up by the thing’s arms, onto the floor in a heap. He stares at the open door, swinging slightly in the breeze, and shivers.

He knew. They said it was just a myth, that there are not really any monsters in the forest, but he _knew_. He bought the cabin anyway, didn’t care about stories of wolves and bears, but secretly wanted to see this monster.

And now he has.

He isn't what Taeil had expected… at all. He had expected an unusually big wolf, or a bear that had acquired a taste for human flesh, not… not whatever that is.

He knows the word for it, but doesn't want to think it, doesn't want to make it more real.

//

Jihoon is perched in his tree. To a passerby, he might be mistaken for a rock or an owl he is so stationary, but inside, his mind is racing at a million miles an hour.

He has never, ever encountered a human who has reacted like the stranger did. Some cry. Some scream. Some freeze. Some swear. But none (and, Jihoon thinks, he has eaten a _lot_ of people) had calmly asked him what his name was. Not one.

The goemul is screeching inside him. He knows he has to feed, and feed soon, because now he knows a food source is so close he cannot take the risk of being hungry near the little cabin lest the goemul takes the opportunity to eat the little man.

And Jihoon doesn't want that.

He drops like a stone from the tree, hits the ground with a thud, leaves flying up around him. His ruby eyes glow in the darkness, and his fangs extend.

Time to eat.

//

In truth, Taeil didn’t care if the creature – the thing – _had_ killed him.

His parents had been horrified when he told them he was moving into the middle of the forest. After Mi-Yun had died, they had expected him to move back home with them. When he had explained that he had purchased a little run-down cabin in the middle of nowhere, they had protested, begged him to stay.

But he couldn’t. In the city, her memory tainted every street. When he did something as simple as walking up to the shops, she would be by his side, her ghost reminding him of everything he had lost.

He had moved out here to get away from it all, to escape, and if that had involved dying – so be it (although he thought the biggest threat was the mythical oversized wolf, not a blood sucking… thing).

He pulls his shirt over his head, notices the dirt where the creature had pressed up against him and throws it into the corner that substitutes as his laundry basket.

He has some thinking to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i am so bad at chapter summaries holy shitballs
> 
> i love how this was originally gon b 2 chapters but like nope
> 
> lol stay tuned for chapter 3


	3. Don't get me twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He snorts. Pyo Jihoon could be less like any literary adaptation of a vampire he had come across. He wasn’t moody and he didn’t sparkle in the sun.

_You are in danger now._  
_Why are you testing me?_  
_Why are you testing me?_  
_Don’t get me twisted._

BTS - Danger

//

_Danger. You’re in danger._

That’s what Jihoon’s senses are saying to him, every synapse in his brain firing, his nerves feeling electric in his skin as he paces in front of his tree. This man has got to him, touched him, in a way nothing has for years – decades, maybe.

He hates it. But he loves it, too, maybe even loves it more than he hates it, because for the first time in a long time, for the first time since he was turned, he feels alive, feels almost human again.

But the goemul is warning him, pulling him back, lengthening his nails and causing his fangs to push painfully against his gums. _Be careful._

He knows he should listen, knows he should be cautious, and not do what he is doing now, which is throwing caution to the wind. He doesn’t even know why. Something about this man, his scent, his sparkling eyes, the way his bed smelled, has drawn Jihoon in.

//

It is another two weeks before the monster comes, and Taeil made sure he was ready this time around.

A letter sits on his desk, addressed to his parents – a precaution. He doesn’t think the monster is going to kill him, not _really_ , not after the way it had looked at him, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

He is lying on his bed, arms behind his back, glasses haphazardly on the bedside table (he only wears them to hide his eyes, which he hates – what’s the point when no one is around?) when his senses tingle and he bolts upright.

_Danger. You’re in danger._

And sure enough, the door swings open and the monster is there, tall and lean, eyes blood red, skin covered in dirt, and, perhaps most disturbingly of all, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

Taeil squares his shoulders.

//

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , the goemul chants, teasing him, _daring_ him to let out his fangs and siphon every bit of blood from the little man standing in front of him. Jihoon clenches his fists, desperately trying to ignore it, he isn’t even hungry –

Then the man catches his eye and the goemul snaps off, just like that, like a light switch has been turned on and he can see again, and it’s so relieving and giddy he nearly falls to the floor.

“What’s your name?” The man asks again, his head tilted slightly to the right, hair falling into his eyes.

The absence of the goemul has changed something. Jihoon wants to reach, tuck the stray strand of black hair back where it belongs, and his fingers twitch.

“I… Pyo Jihoon.” He croaks, his voice sounding awful and scratchy after years of not talking.

“Nice to meet you, Pyo Jihoon. I’m Lee Taeil. Care for a drink?” The man says, his eyes narrowing slightly, eyelids twitching.

//

Taeil is so scared he thinks he is going to fall over right then and there, invite the creature to eat him and get it over with. For fuck’s sake, what is he doing?

Dancing with death, of course. Something he’d always done.

//

Jihoon’s nostrils flare as he smells the fear wafting off the man – _Taeil_ \- who is desperately trying to hide it, hands clasped together to stop them shaking. But Jihoon sees it all, doesn’t miss a thing with his senses.

“I… Sure.” He says, wincing at the abrasiveness of his voice and, uninvited, sits down in a chair, feeling uncomfortable.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

//

He stays until the goemul comes back again, stirs gently from some place in his mind, drifts to the front gracefully, almost peacefully – very unlike it.

“I… I have to go.”

And he goes.

//

Taeil holds his breath, not daring to disturb the atmosphere in the room. One moment, he _– **Jihoon** – he has a name now_ – was there, filling the room with the unspoken, his red eyes, his pale skin, his twitching fingers and still chest. And then he was gone, the door swinging in some unfelt breeze, leaving Taeil sitting there stupidly, two glasses of water untouched.

Of course. _Stupid, stupid_. Why would he drink water? He eats… _people_ , for gods sakes. He’s not going to want a glass of water.

He lets out the breath he was holding, and the room is back to what it was – his – just with dirt on the seat and the faint smell of blood and earth in the air. He stands up, carries the glasses to the sink and dumps them, looking out onto the forest, his forest.

He had learned a few things about the… thing (again, he corrects himself – Jihoon), but he had sensed his reluctance or inability to talk, and so had directed the conversation. He had talked about the weather, here and back home in Busan, the public transport, the different species of deer found in this forest. The man had sat quietly, eyes darting about, never resting in one place for more than a few seconds, drinking it all in.

What he had learned?

  1. He was called Pyo Jihoon
  2. He didn’t know what he was, only that he got burned in the sun and craved blood
  3. He didn’t know much about his family
  4. He didn’t know where he was or what year it was



For that last one, Taeil had helpfully supplied the information. “Korea. You’re in South Korea. It’s the year 2014.”

That had sparked something. His eyes seemed to glow, almost frighteningly bright for a second, before they faded and he smiled, a mere twitch of the lips that to Taeil meant the world.

_I made him smile. I made the vampire smile._

He stops himself, puts the glasses on the drying rack and sits back down. The word vampire… it was a child’s tale, told to naughty children and, as of more recently, was popularized by _Twilight_.

He snorts. Pyo Jihoon could be less like any literary adaptation of a vampire he had come across. He wasn’t moody and he didn’t sparkle in the sun.

Taeil leans back in his chair. What is he, then? He has fangs, long things that grow almost instantly from his upper canines, and little matching ones on his bottom canines. He has fingernails that grow, too, into sharp points almost like claws. His eyes are red, a bright, blood red that suit his pale face beautifully. He can see in the dark effortlessly, has no heartbeat, and has extremely sharp senses.

What _is_ he?

//

_What are you?_

The goemul mocks him as he sits in his tree, rocking, arms wrapped around himself.

_Are you human? Are you weak?_

He roars, leaps down and comes crashing to the forest floor in a flurry of leaves, turns to the nearest tree and slashes it with his fingernails.

It won’t leave him alone.

_Weak. You’re weak. Stupid._

He snarls, presses his hands to his ears, a gesture he saw once in a movie (it was playing in the hospice TV when he broke in) but now feels so appropriate. Why won’t it leave him alone?

It’s been bad, but never this bad.

He turns, runs, speeding blindingly fast into the forest, not knowing where he is going and not caring, wind whipping the crimson tears from his eyes.

Maybe he can outrun it.

//

He can’t.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just so u know the repetition in this chapter is intentional. i wasn't being dumb, promise!!
> 
> ok so sorry for the delay, i was in fiji, lost my mojo, blah blah it's all v boring, but i'm back now and better than ever and i hope you enjoyed this chapter <3


	4. Keep you off my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> water water everywhere and not a drop to drink

The next visit is different. Taeil is lying on his bed, reading – some crappy horror novel he had picked up at the service station nearest to the forest (he thought it was appropriate, at least) when he looks up and Jihoon is there, standing over him.

He shrieks. “Jesus, Jihoon, please don’t do that. I can’t hear you coming.”

Jihoon, dirty as per usual, just cocks a head quizzically. Sometimes he seems to forget Taeil can’t keep up with him, can’t hear like him, and just can’t be a vampire like him. And then he remembers,

“Oh, I apoligise. It’s a habit.” Jihoon says quietly, before extending a hand. “Walk in the woods with me?”

Taeil shuts his book (marking the page with a dog ear – he knows it is bad, but who finds bookmarks ready made in the middle of the forest?) and slides off the bed, straight in front of Jihoon, who hasn’t stepped back. They are face to face (face to chest, really – Jihoon is quite tall) and it is very intimate.

Taeil stares up into Jihoon’s dull red eyes. The taller man – no, _vampire_ – is completely still, not even moving to breathe, his chest immobile, and it’s that that shatters Taeil’s perception of the moment and he steps past Jihoon, walking to the door.

He supposes Jihoon follows, though he’s so silent he can’t tell.

//

Without really knowing what he’s doing, Jihoon reaches down and curls his hand around Taeil’s.

It’s the intimacy he craves, or maybe just the touch. Whatever it is, the hand is so soft and warm Jihoon nearly bursts into tears right then and there. He hasn’t felt this for years.

The other man looks up at him and smiles, but Jihoon can hear his pulse quicken and his fangs ache in his gums.

They walk for a while, not speaking, just hand in hand, and it’s so nice that Jihoon forgets what he is, pretends he is walking in the woods with a friend (except friends don’t really hold hands, do they?) at night, and he is lost in the warmth of Taeil’s hand when the shorter man speaks.

“Why are your eyes that colour?” He asks suddenly, shattering Jihoon’s little peaceful bubble. He comes down to earth with a thud.

“What do you mean?” He asks. He hasn’t seen a mirror in years, has no idea what colour his eyes are. They used to be brown.

“Well…” Taeil begins, hesitates. Jihoon can almost pick the thought from his mind: _‘Will he be offended?’_

“Go on.” Jihoon says gently, and squeezes Taeil’s hand reassuringly. Well, he thinks it is reassuringly. By the way Taeil yelps and rips his hand from Jihoon’s, it is more painful than reassuring for the human.

“Sorry.” Jihoon mutters, staring at the leaves underneath their feet. “But go on.”

“Well, the other night when you visited, your eyes were bright red. Today, they’re kind of a dull, dark red. What’s up with that?”

“I… Don’t know.” Jihoon answers honestly. “Perhaps it’s because I haven’t fed in a while?”

“You really don’t know much about what you are, do you?” Taeil blurts.

“I suppose not. No one helped me, or taught me about what I am. I had to work it out by myself.” Jihoon answers, running his tongue over his canines where his fangs pop out.

“Well, you don’t have to be by yourself from now on.” The younger man grins, slips his hand back into the vampires.

If Jihoon had a heartbeat he would be blushing, he is sure.

//

  
They’re nearly back at the cabin when it happens.

Taeil is daydreaming, thinking about ways he can help Jihoon, perhaps teach him how to use the internet, and even read if he doesn’t know how to, when he trips and falls.

‘Clumsy’ is his first thought as he goes head over heels onto the ground, even Jihoon’s supreme reflexes not helping. Then the pain hits, and the next thought is a wordless scream that thankfully does not erupt from his mouth.

He pats down his leg, finds the stick embedded in his calf, yanks it out with teeth gritted but still whimpers, _fuck_ , he never was good with pain.

And then he looks up and sees Jihoon and nearly whimpers again.

The vampire is standing over him, fangs extended and eyes blazing crimson. His fingers are curled into claws, the fingernails having become long and sharp. His gaze is fixed on the leg where the stick was, and as Taeil looks down and sees the blood soaking through his pant leg, he knows he is a dead man.

_Well, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?_ Some little voice tells him, and he yells at it to shut up, unable to move in fear. If he runs, Jihoon will chase him, and then he will die. If he sits here, Jihoon will pounce, and he will die. He doesn’t know what to do.

//

Never in his life has he felt this much bloodlust, has known that he must feed or he will surely die. The goemul is screaming at him, reaching inside him and ripping out what humanity is left, _begging_ him to feed.

_Justdoitcomeonpleaseohgoditsmellssogoodcan’tresist_

The vampire falls to his knees, still staring at the crimson stain seeping through Taeil’s pants and his mouth begins to water as he bends down, ready to sink his fangs in and feel the life force flow into him, feel the pleasure - when a warm hand touches his face.

He whirls around, eyes blazing, fighting with himself.

_Whyishetouchingyoujustbitehimjustdoitjustfuckingkillhimhesmellssogood_

“Please. Jihoon. Don’t do this.” Taeil breathes, just words on an exhale, but Jihoon catches it and –

And with all the strength he doesn’t know he has, he snarls, turns and disappears into the forest.

//

Taeil’s heart won’t stop beating at a million miles an hour as he hobbles back to the cabin. He was so _close_ to death, he could almost taste it, almost touch it… and he rejected it.

As he slumps into a chair with the first aid kit he keeps in the tiny bathroom in the cabin, he shakes his head. Isn’t that why he moved out here in the first place? To die? Because life wasn’t worth living without Mi-Yun?

That’s what he thought, at least.

He pours alcohol onto the wound and winces at the sting but relishes it. He isn’t dead.

Not yet, at least.


	5. Let me do it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Drink, Jihoon. You know you want to.” Taeil purrs, his voice rich like velvet. It nearly sends Jihoon over the edge.

_Anyone looking for the paradise lost_  
_No need for elaborate words, no need for lies_  
_You are my, and I’m your diamond lost_  
_We’re in the same night, under the same moon and sun_

_I feel, I’m real_  
_Where are you right now_  
_Right now, I’m almost at paradise._  
_I’m here, I’m yours_  
_Just remember this_  
_You and I, another paradise_

Gain - Paradise Lost

//

_He still remembers it now, her screams. The way they shattered the air, burst his eardrums._

_‘A freak accident,’ everyone called it. Taeil thought they were lying. Who would run over someone, someone as beautiful as Mi-Yun? Who would drive off, leaving her in the middle of the road, screaming as she knew she was dying?_

//

When Jihoon comes, Taeil is ready.

Ready to die, ready to live - either way, he is prepared. He is sitting on his bed, his straight razor in his hand. He fiddles with it, flicking it open and closed, open and closed, the repetitive motion soothing him.

The door swings open, and Jihoon is standing there, tall, lean and predatory. He looks happy, though, and normal. As normal as he can be, at least. His eyes are a dull red, and his hair looks less messy than normal.

Steeling himself, Taeil grasps the straight razor and slides it across his hand, staring not at Jihoon but at the crimson that immediately begins leaking from the wound. No wonder Jihoon is obsessed with it; the sight of it is heavenly.  
//

_Not again. I can’t do that again._

The smell of Taeil’s blood hits him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He gasps for air, drinking it in, his fangs painful against his bottom lip. The goemul moves him closer, his feet dragging him closer to that smell, while he fights it with every step.

“Taeil, what are you doing?” He growls, too afraid to open his mouth in case it’s the catalyst, the proverbial straw that break’s the camel’s back.

The shorter man looks up, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Testing you.”

Jihoon can barely hear the words, the goemul is screaming at him. He can feel his self-control slipping away as the seconds tick by, takes a staggered step forward.

“Why?”

“Drink, Jihoon. You know you want to.” Taeil purrs, his voice rich like velvet. It nearly sends Jihoon over the edge.

Another step closer.

“Don’t do this to me, Taeil. Don’t make me kill you.” Jihoon gasps out. He wants to rip out his dead heart, fling it at the other man, die the final death.

And he can’t. The same force that keeps him alive is the same force that forces him to kneel in front of the bed and take the offered hand, dripping with the life force that energizes him.

Being this close – the smell is overwhelming. He can’t hold on for much longer.

“Taeil. I can’t – ”

“Do it.”

So he does.

//

As Jihoon dips his head, as Taeil sees his tongue snake out and lick the blood off his fingers, he knows this is the end.

He lets his head roll back.

//

The first taste is electric. Just one drop, and he is like a drug addict; he needs more. Grabbing Taeil’s hand, he brings it to his face and licks up and down the wound, craving more.

It is erotic, the taste of the other man’s blood. He feels it travel through his body, all the way down to his toes, and he feels alive. He feels like he is a king, like he can do anything, kill anyone, fuck anyone.

He moans, and Taeil’s hand comes up and grasps his hair.

//

The moment Jihoon latches on, Taeil feels it all the way down to his toes. It is strangely erotic, watching him on his knees in front of him, taking what Taeil is offering. He bites his lip, to stop from moaning. He wants Jihoon to rip him open, take all of him, as long as he keeps drinking.

As Jihoon whines, Taeil’s hand slides into Jihoon’s rough, matted hair and grasps it.

“Fuck – Jihoon - ”

//

Jihoon snarls, leaps on top of the younger man, pushes him down on the bed and sinks his fangs into Taeil’s neck.

The act of being this close – feeling the other man’s body pressed up against him, feel him gasp for breath – and the taste of his blood sends Jihoon over the edge. His eyes roll back in his head as he and the goemul revel in the pleasure that this brings to them.

//

It doesn’t even hurt, that’s the weirdest thing. Taeil always thought his death would be painful, but when those fangs slide in ever so delicately, like they were made to be there, it sends a wave of pleasure through his body so intense his fingers go numb.

His hands find Jihoon’s back underneath his filthy t-shirt, and wildly he drags his nails down the other man’s back, hears Jihoon’s low warning growl and grins.

//

As the blood fills him, as Taeil starts getting weaker, as his breaths get slower and slower, the goemul gets louder.

_Kill him. Just do it. He wants it. Just drain him. You know you want to._

He pulls back, looks at the other man’s face, which has gone pale from the blood loss. Taeil smiles, places a hand on Jihoon’s cheek. His eyes are glazed over.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Taeil sighs, happily, and Jihoon knows he is losing him.

And he as he looks at Taeil, the goemul disappears, the bloodlust disappears, everything disappears except for those two brown eyes, and before he can know what he is doing he tears into his own wrist, the blood dripping slowly down his arm, and offers it to Taeil.

He shakes his head, fading fast. “No… Wanted you to have it… Have me…”

So Jihoon cradles the other man, places his oozing wrist on to the other man’s mouth, and waits.

//

The taste fills him and _oh, god,_ now he knows why Jihoon is what he is, because the blood is the best thing he has ever tasted. He grabs Jihoon’s arm, sucks furiously, and as he does so, feels his life flow back into him.

Along with the lust.

//

As Taeil bucks and moans below him, as Jihoon feels the odd sensation of – of sharing his life force with another being, the goemul laughs in the back of his head.

_You are a lost cause._

//

Taeil falls asleep almost instantly, after Jihoon has sealed both of his wounds and his own. Jihoon lifts him, gently rolls him properly onto the bed, tucks him under the blanket with a gentleness he didn’t know he had.

And he sits on the chair and thinks.

Taeil wanted to die, he knows that much. He also knows this: Taeil’s blood is unlike anything he has ever tasted before.

As he walks out of the cabin, shuts the door quietly behind him and begins walking home – the act of giving blood back to Taeil has exhausted him – he also realizes just how erotic that whole act was.

One thing is for certain, now that he has tasted Taeil’s blood, he can’t go anywhere.

The goemul won’t let him.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Did you catch that the whole thing was a metaphor for sex? :L I think I made it pretty obvious... If you didn't pick it up, you may not have a dirty mind.
> 
> Unlike me. I'm a ho and I need jesus. 
> 
> ANYWAY! Has it really been 4 months since I last updated this?? Ooops! More coming soon. Promise ;)


	6. i'd give in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was livin' in the heat in the moment  
> I'd give into to you  
> Give into you

_I lost the feeling but I try to hold on_  
_I thought the end of a love and what made you strong_  
_I pray to god, I just don't know anymore_

_Pray To God - David Guetta Ft Haim_

//

Taeil swings open his door, the plastic bags full of shopping he has just bought from the nearest shop (still over a mile away), and sees Jihoon sitting there, on his bed, flicking Taeil’s lighter. _On. Off._

His heart skips a beat as a feeling unlike anything he has ever experienced flows through him. It’s almost like… comfort. Like he has just come home.

Jihoon looks up, a sardonic smile on his face. “You feel it too?”

_On. Off._

Taken aback – since when has Jihoon been able to tell what he is feeling? – Taeil begins to put away the shopping in the few cupboards he has, his stomach twisting.

“I guess that means yes.” Jihoon rumbles from behind him.

_On. Off._

The noise sparks something in Taeil and he slams his fist on the counter, turns and glares. “Feel what? What am I meant to be feeling? I don’t even know what I am feeling right now, Jihoon.”

The vampire looks at him for the first time since Taeil walked into the cabin, his eyes bright, flaming red and his fangs protruding. “Don’t lie to me. You feel…”

 _On. Off._ He flicks the lighter as he tilts his head, narrows his eyes, measuring Taeil.

“You feel comfort that I am near. You feel safe. You also feel apprehensive, because you haven’t seen my eyes this red before.”

Taeil’s breath hitches in his throat. This is new. This is frightening. Never before has Jihoon been able to tell what he is feeling – of course, he could read Taeil’s heartbeat and breaths, but now he can tell the precise intricacies of his emotions.

“How?” He breathes.

_On. Off. On._

Jihoon shrugs, flits his fingers through the flame of the lighter. “It’s only been happening since… since we fed from each other.”

At the words, Taeil remembers the event, the pure eroticism that he had felt, that they had both felt, and a shiver goes through his entire body.

_Off._

Before he can move, Jihoon is up on his feet, moving towards him, pushing him against the wall, until their faces are close together, Taeil straining to stare upwards.

“Now, you feel lust. You want me to bite you again, you want to feel that feeling once more.” Jihoon growls, his fangs nipping Taeil’s ear.

Taeil thinks he is about to faint. Jihoon is not lying, but he is choosing to ignore the fear that courses through his blood alongside the lust. The last time, where Taeil had purposely cut himself – that was intentional. He doesn’t know what he was thinking at the time, but whatever it was, he had been ready to die.

But now? Now that he has felt the pure power, the titillation of drinking from a vampire, he doesn’t want to die anymore.

“Scared?” Jihoon whispers. Taeil doesn’t realize his hands are gripping Jihoon’s shirt, his fists balling in the material.

“Yes.” He whispers back, turning his head to see Jihoon’s neck, envisages biting into that neck, feeling the blood flow into him.

“Can you feel anything? Anything of me?” Jihoon murmurs, his lips on Taeil’s neck now, fangs pressing dangerously close to the skin.

“Only… Only this.” Sighs Taeil, his hands sliding underneath Jihoon’s shirt, his brain only dimly registering this and ringing warning bells. “Only you.”

Jihoon barks a quick, short laugh, before kissing Taeil’s neck again. “I’m going to bite you now.” He warns, his voice throaty.

“Please…” Taeil whimpers. Some distant part of him is ashamed, disgusted at the way he gives in so easily, but as Jihoon clamps down, as Taeil feels the fangs slide in and his eyes roll back in his head, he ignores that part.

And as Jihoon drinks, besides the lust that takes Taeil over to the part where he is dragging his nails down Jihoon’s back, feelings start flooding in. Feelings that aren’t his. Thoughts that aren’t his.

_“His blood… Tastes so good… The way he feels, how he moans for me… Oh, god….”_

And:

_“Kill rip tear render fucking finish him, end him, drain every last drop from his stupid little body, you know you want to, you know you want every single bit of his blood, he is yours, he is ours, mine.”_

Taeil shoves Jihoon away with every bit of strength he has. The vampire staggers a few feet, his eyes flaring red before fading as he wipes his mouth on his shirt.

He can’t stop shaking. “I heard you. I heard your thoughts. I knew what you were thinking.” He snarls, balling his fists. “You wanted to kill me.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen and he tilts his head. He seems genuinely confused. “Taeil, what do you think I am? Some kind of pet? Besides, you wanted to die the other day. Why not now?”

“No, I don’t think you are a pet. I… I trusted that you wouldn’t kill me. I didn’t want to die.” Taeil offers, even as he knows it is useless. Jihoon can tell he is lying.

“And did I? Did I kill you?” Jihoon asks, his voice insistent. “Did I?”

Taeil looks down. His mind is still reeling from being able to hear Jihoon’s thoughts, from touching Jihoon like that again, that he can’t focus properly. “No, you didn’t kill me.”

Jihoon stands up so abruptly the chair falls to the ground with a bang. “No. I didn’t. But I will always want to. Understand that. I can’t help it. I live with this monster every day, and every day, I beat it. But one day, I might not.”

And he is gone.

//

As Taeil washes his neck over the sink in the bathroom, he feels stupid, like a child.

For a moment there, as his hands ran down Jihoon’s back and the lust overtook him, he – he felt normal. He liked being drunk from, liked drinking from the vampire.

But then the thoughts had come.

Now, where he is away from Jihoon and can think clearly without those piercing eyes seeing straight through him, he knows Jihoon could kill him at any moment, knows Jihoon is nothing but an animal disguised as a man, as deadly and untamed as a wolf.

But in the moment, he had trusted Jihoon. Knew that the vampire wouldn’t kill him.

He knew it because he had felt it, felt that mutual trust emanating from the other man.

He sighs and dries his neck, which is still leaking blood without the use of Jihoon’s saliva to act as a coagulant. If that was the monster that lives inside of him all the time, then who is Jihoon? What separates man from monster?

As he walks back into the kitchen and sees the lighter sitting there, on the desk, he shuts his eyes. That fucking lighter.

//

_“Do you like it?” Mi-Yun asks, her voice getting higher as she waits in anticipation. “I got it specially engraved and everything.”_

_Taeil laughs. “Why did you get me a lighter? You know I don’t smoke.”_

_“‘A lighter is something a man should always have,’” she replies, mocking Taeil’s father. “‘A man must be prepared.’ Besides, I thought it was pretty.”_

_It is kind of pretty, Taeil thinks, the flowers on the front painted beautifully. As he turns it over and sees the inscription, ‘Mi-Yun + Tae Il’, he smiles. “I love it.”_

_Mi-Yun leans over, kisses Taeil, her lips so soft he thinks he is lost in them._

  
//

Taeil picks up the lighter and turns it over. ‘Mi-Yun + Tae Il’, the inscription reads boldy. Too bad no one had updated it, erased Mi-Yun.

He takes the lighter outside and, carefully, digs a shallow hole some way into the woods. The inscription stares cruelly up at him as he scrapes dirt over it with his shoe.

That was then, and this is now.

It’s time to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird to say this, but I am really starting to fall in love with this fic. That's weird, isn't it? That an author falls in love with their own fic?
> 
> Anyway. I don't really feel like i'm writing this. More like Taeil and Jihoon's story is inside me and it needs to be told, I need to let it out.
> 
> ANYWAY there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter and that's not my strong point so... sorry
> 
> enjoy <3


	7. your love is a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy water, a bible, and a confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have said this earlier but when I include song lyrics, try to listen to the song while listening to the chapter so you know what was in my head while I was writing! I've linked it for your listening pleasure~

_You’re a monster in my mind_  
_You’re the one I can’t leave behind_  
_You crawled inside_  
_I watched you die_  
_Did you think that you could bury me?_

 _Your love is a lie_  
_I will fight to forget_  
_Your love is a knife_  
_I will die to forget_

[Red - Fight to Forget](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rWkueeGgEE4)

He is running, blindly, swerving just in time to avoid trees as their branches whip him across the face.

The goeumul in his head is saying nothing – instead, it’s laughing, and that’s almost worse. He can stand it yelling at him, he can stand its silence, but he can’t stand it laughing at him.

So he runs, until he is at the edge of the forest, and then he keeps running, away from the little man whose feelings entwine with his and drive him crazy.

//

He stops in a clearing, panting, desperately trying to get air into his lungs. He knows if his heart was beating, it would be racing out of his chest, but as it is, it lays still and dead

And then a wave of – of _something_ hits him and he is forced to his knees, the scene in front of his eyes no longer the forest and the trees surrounding him, but a girl, a _beautiful_ girl, her eyes full of hope and love.

“Do you like it?” The girl asks, her voice squeaking even higher. “I got it specially engraved and everything.”

Jihoon feels himself speak; mirroring the words that he feels come from him. “Why did you get me a lighter? You know I don’t smoke.” He laughs, the sound abrasive in the silence of the forest.

A smirk crosses the girl’s face, and she tucks her hair behind her ear. Jihoon has the strangest instinct to tuck it back for her.

“‘A lighter is something a man should always have,’” she replies in a deep voice, a voice that isn’t hers, a voice she is obviously mocking. “‘A man must be prepared.’ Besides, I thought it was pretty.”

The vision looks down, as does Jihoon and in his hands is a ghostly lighter – the lighter he was playing with earlier, he realizes. His breath hitches in his throat; this is _Taeil’s_ vision.

The hands that are not his turn the lighter and he sees an inscription he didn’t notice before: ‘Mi-Yun + Tae Il’.

“I love it.” He whispers, the ghost of Taeil whispering with him. The girl leans over and presses her lips to his, and for a moment, Jihoon can swear he can feel her, her soft lips, her perfume.

But he opens his eyes and she is gone, and he is alone, with nothing but Taeil’s feeling of sadness echoing around him.

//

It takes him a week to come back.

No matter how far he runs – and he knows he has run pretty far – he can’t lose Taeil’s feelings. Jihoon can tell when he is asleep, when he is awake, when he is unhappy or content or hungry.

He hates it.

Even feeding isn’t the same anymore; he still gets that wave of lust, the pure, incomparable feeling of drinking from someone, but it’s nothing compared to Taeil and his blood. The other blood seems, now, tasteless and weak.

After all, every addict falls off the wagon. No matter how hard they try, their drug of choice is always there, always tempting them, and it isn’t any different with Jihoon and Taeil’s blood.

He lets the deer fall to the ground, utterly empty of all fluids, and retracts his fangs. It’s not that he was hungry – he had already fed from someone in the hospital only an hour ago – but rather he doesn’t trust himself. He wants to meet with Taeil, talk to the little man, and figure out why his feelings mirror Jihoon’s, why he can’t break this bond, no matter how far he goes – _without_ getting distracted.

When he opens the cabin door, instead of seeing Taeil reading on the bed, or typing away on his laptop on the desk, the human is sitting on the floor, a circle of different objects surrounding him.

He is instantly wary. Taeil is feeling apprehensive, excited, and curious.

What the hell is going on?

//

Jihoon is there, a smear of dried blood on his cheek, filling up the doorway like he always does, and Taeil has to hide a smile. Not that it matters – Jihoon can tell what he is feeling, can tell that his mood has brightened just by having the vampire near.

He stalks over to the bed and sinks down, shuts his eyes for a moment. Taeil knows that as much as he loves the forest, likes sleeping in the dirt, he enjoys the few moments he gets in the relative comfort of Taeil’s cabin.

“I thought we would try something today.” Taeil broaches, gesturing to the objects in front of him.

“What are all those things?” Jihoon opens his eyes and sits forward. “Is that… garlic?”

Taeil smiles. “These are all things that popular culture says vampires are afraid of, or hurt by.” He looks down. “I’ve got silver chains, garlic, holy water, a cross and a bible. Do you feel any aversion to these things?”

Jihoon just stares at Taeil, a smirk creeping up his face. “Do you really think I am like those vampires on the television, or the YouTube?”

(One day, Taeil had showed Jihoon YouTube, in particular, vampire movies. He had laughed his head off at _Twilight_.)

“No. I just… I think this is worth trying. I want to see if any of these things affect you.” Taeil replies, evenly.

Jihoon tenses and stands up abruptly, his eyes glowing red. “Why? So you can kill me?”

Choosing to ignore him, Taeil reaches down and picks up the garlic. “Any reaction?”

Jihoon, eyes still red, crinkles his nose. “It smells funny, but that’s about it. I could probably eat it if I wanted to.”

“Holy water?” He says, handing the vampire the vial.

Jihoon responds by unstopping the lid and pouring it over his head. His fangs are out by now, and Taeil can tell he is frustrated.

“Okay… Silver?” He says, handing over the silver chain.

Curiously, almost immediately, smoke begins rising from Jihoon’s hands where the chain falls. He looks at it, surprised; it’s clear to Taeil that he has not come across anything that can hurt him before.

“It… It hurts.” He says, his voice small, like a child’s. As he shifts the chain from hand to hand, he examines the faint welts it leaves behind.

“That’s pretty cool. I actually didn’t think any of this stuff would affect you. I guess some of the myths have basis in reality¬ – ”

He is cut off by Jihoon flinging the chain away. It hits his window with a clatter and drops into the sink. He winces.

“Enough.”

“But we haven’t –” he begins.

“I said, enough!” Jihoon roars, and with a kick, launches the bible through the open door. “We need to talk about what is happening.”

“What is happening?” Taeil asks evenly, his heart beating faster. That bible could easily be him if he doesn’t play his cards carefully.

Jihoon turns, his eyes red and fangs out and ready. Taeil sees, before his eyes, Jihoon’s fingernails grow long and sharp, and he can tell Jihoon is fighting with the monster inside. “I can feel you. I ran for a week, and I could still feel you.”

Taeil blinks. “You mean… it isn’t just while we are close?”

Jihoon clenches his fist and Taeil can tell he is close to losing it.

“I can’t fucking escape you. I ran for a week and you followed me. You were in my head. You are in my head. It’s not meant to be like this.” Jihoon shakes his head, his eyes getting wilder, his shoulders more slumped over, and Taeil can tell he is losing him.

“I don’t want this! I don’t want you! Who are you? What have you done to me?” Jihoon’s voice is changing as Taeil shrinks back. It gets deeper – if such a thing was even possible – and more growly. Taeil knows this is the monster speaking now.

“Jihoon, please…”

//

He is swimming somewhere in his own mind now, completely given over to the goemul. It has control, and he is nothing but a bystander now. He floats somewhere, content, happy, observing.

“Jihoon, please…” Taeil pleads.

He feels a tinge of guilt. He genuinely likes the human, likes his company, likes how he shows Jihoon things. When he is with him, he feels almost human. But now, the other man is scared, shrinking back against the dishwasher.

The goemul roars, a wordless, animal sound that reverberates through the cabin and makes the windows rattle. Even here, in the back of his mind, he can feel Taeil, almost like he is sitting here next to him.

_Please don’t let him kill me, please, I was just trying to help, I don’t want to die, I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him –_

Jihoon swims back, forces the goemul away, ties it up and puts it in a box in the corner of his mind. He blinks, back in control again, looks down at his hands curled into claws. Looks at Taeil, sees the tears run down the other man’s face, hears _who is he? Is it him or is it the monster? What is he going to do now?_

Jihoon crouches, places his hand on Taeil’s cheek – a mirror of the first time they had met. With touch, the connection is solidified, and Jihoon gasps as he gets the true spectrum of Taeil’s emotions.

//

_I love him, I love him, I love him, please, I don’t want to die…_

As Jihoon’s cold hand rests upon his cheek, as he feels his hand come up and cover it, he knows he cannot hide anymore. As Jihoon’s eyes go wide, he knows, he just knows the vampire is reading his thoughts.

Jihoon gets up, slowly, backing away, towards the door. “Don’t do this, Taeil. Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, barely able to speak through the tears.

Jihoon is shaking his head as he reaches the doorway. “Don’t make me run away. Please. Take it back. Say you didn’t mean it.”

“Jihoon…” Taeil whispers.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Jihoon says, his voice cold, and he is gone.

//

As he staggers over to the toilet, retches into the bowl, the tears won’t stop falling.

He wasn’t lying. Somewhere, over these last 6 months, he has come to care for the other man. The _vampire_. Even love him.

He shakes his head, retches again. Nothing comes up.

Maybe it’s because he sees Mi-Yun in those eyes. Maybe it’s because, when Jihoon is as normal as he can be, when they are laughing over a stupid video Taeil has found, when they walk through the forest holding hands ( _he just craves the intimacy_ , Taeil keeps telling himself), when Jihoon _looks_ at him, when he brushes Taeil’s hair out of his eyes for him… When those things happen, Taeil forgets he is what he is, that every day he fights with the monster inside.

He gags one last time before hauling himself up from the bathroom floor.

He is empty.

//

He is empty.

He runs, doesn’t stop running until he reaches the sea, and then he swims, swims until he finds land again, and then keeps running.

Inside the goemul is laughing, an awful cackling sound that reverberates through his head and sends him insane. Only once does it stop laughing to say something.

_‘You should have killed that thing the first time you saw it.’_

He silently agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop there it is
> 
> sorry this chapter is so long, i just couldn't chop it in half no matter where I tried to cut it.
> 
> I've finished this story, now it's just a matter of posting it. Be patient :D


	8. fight while i'm alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

_You looked inside then you turned away_

_My makeshift savior_  
_He left me right here in my chains_  
_But still I whisper_  
_(I’m calling out)_  
_Still I call you_

 _I never wanted you to see_  
_The darkest part of me_  
_I knew you’d run away_  
_I waited but you never came_  
[ _Red – Darkest Part_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5T_VbKpfAa0)

_Two weeks_  
“Humanity’s continuing obsession with vampires,” the title of the research paper reads.

Taeil knows he shouldn’t click it. But as if of its own volition, the mouse moves over, clicks the title, and before he knows it he is reading it heartily.

It’s been two weeks now since Jihoon left, and this time Taeil knows it’s for good.

_‘Humans are obsessed with vampires for a number of reasons. The idea of immortality is fascinating. We are always looking for ways to live longer, so the idea that a creature has the ability to give that to us ignites some primal spark inside us.’_

Taeil blinks and pushes his glasses up his nose. Bullshit. He couldn’t care less that Jihoon will live forever, or at least for a very long time.

Reaching for the glass of water beside him, he takes a long gulp and looks out the window briefly. He likes to imagine Jihoon walking through that door, sitting down in the chair and asking what Taeil is going to show him today, asking to play on the computer, or go for a walk.

But there is nothing there except the sounds of the forest, the hooting of the owls and the crunch of branches as deer make their way past the little cabin, the lights reflecting off their eyes.

He turns his eyes back to the computer.

_‘Vampires are very complex creatures. Dating back to Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which, although not the first of its genre, was a first in that it defined the ‘modern’ vampire, vampires in popular culture have many different traits. They are drug addicts, serial killers, historians, a romantic. These character traits all combine to provide a fascinating character._

_‘Vampires are loners, but not lonely. This is an enviable trait to the socially conscious human who is constantly worried about ‘fitting in’. Vampires, while alone, are perfectly content with their solitary lifestyle, and humans wish we could be as self reliant and autonomous.’_

Taeil scrolls down until he finds the conclusion, buried 20 pages later. If he is honest, the scientific, official-sounding language is giving him a headache.

_‘In conclusion, just as vampires are addicted to human blood, humanity is addicted to vampires. Myths of vampires and vampire-like creatures date back since the time of the Babylons; they will continue forward into the future with us.’_

Taeil slams the computer shut and resists the urge to fling it through the window. He isn’t addicted. Jihoon isn’t a drug that he can just pick up whenever he likes; he is a real, feeling human being.

Except he isn’t.

Running a hand over his face, he lets out a deep sigh, then gets up and prepares to head to bed. Where is Jihoon? What is he doing?

//

The city is intoxicating. Jihoon wonders what took him so long to find it, to find the bright lights, the cars, the buildings, but most of all the _people_. All this time, this is what he has been missing.

There is no dirt here for him to bury himself in; no tree to crouch in to watch the night pass. Instead, using the knowledge he has gained from all the movies Taeil and he have watched –

_Sitting on Taeil’s little couch, watching some asinine American movie, but Taeil is there and that’s all that matters. Jihoon reaches down and takes Taeil’s hand, revels in its warmth and softness –_

He shakes his head. Using the knowledge he has gained from all the movies Taeil and he have watched, he has booked himself into a dingy, run-down motel. He had stolen a baseball cap off a tourist (who had looked around, unable to comprehend that his hat had been stolen from off the top of his head without him realizing) and walked in, cap low over his eyes, the money that Taeil had given him long ago heavy in his pocket, and paid for a room.

Now he sits in front of the window, legs crossed and fangs out, watching the humans scurry from place to place below him. It’s not _that_ different from his tree, really. Instead of insects, he is watching food, now.

He stands up, stretches, feels the goemul take over. Time to hunt.

//  
_A month_

The bonfire sends sparks shooting up into the sky, mingling with the stars. Taeil likes to think maybe he’s adding a few more up there.

He tosses a few more pictures of Mi-Yun in the barrel. It’s cold outside, so he wore his heavy winter coat, but the fire on his face is making him sweat. The photo in his hands is one he can’t remember taking. It’s Mi-Yun, looking away from the camera. He had clearly captured a candid moment; her eyebrows are drawn together and her lips are tilted downward. She is quite obviously sad.

“That makes two of us.” Taeil says to no one, throwing the photo in the fire with the rest of them.

//

Jihoon flings the empty body away from him, doesn’t bother to wipe away the blood on his face. It satisfies his hunger, but there is something deep inside of him that needs _more_ , and he knows what it wants.

Growling, he reaches for the next body, tears open its throat and drinks.

It’s still not enough.

//  
_Three months_

Taeil has given up hope.

Although he was never able to feel Jihoon’s emotions (while they weren’t feeding), he could always tell if the vampire was near, in the forest. Now, he can’t feel anything. It’s like a huge chunk has been ripped out of his heart, and Jihoon has taken it and is carrying it around somewhere.

He sits on his bed and surveys the cabin. There is where they sat and watched movies together, Jihoon tentatively taking his hand. There is where they sat the first time they talked, when Taeil had stupidly given him water.

He runs a hand over the sheets next to him. Here is where Jihoon had bitten him; this is where he had felt ecstasy and lust.

This is where he lost himself.

//

It is easy to forget.

In the city, there is so much going on. So many bright lights, so many people coming and going, so much activity. He keeps his mind busy these days, doesn’t let it drift to the forest, of his tree that he misses and Taeil who he misses more.

It’s so easy to run away. Even if that makes him a coward.

//

 _But you saw more_  
_You saw my deepest part_  
_With the light of a thousand stars_  
_You saw them awake in me_  
_And through your eyes_  
_You showed me everything_  
_You woke me up inside, brought back to life_  
_I lost myself, but now I breathe again_  
[The Ever - Red](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZSrKnTbn-s)

 

 _6 months_  
It’s 3 am but he is awake.

His dreams are tainted now, ever since _him_. He is restless, waking several times each night. The only way for him to get back to sleep is to take a walk through the forest.

That’s where he is now, dressed in his pyjamas and slippers. He splays his hand against a tree, feels the rough bark underneath his skin, imagines it breathing.

“I miss him too.” He whispers, and as if it is responding, the leaves above his head rustle. It sounds like a sigh.

He turns to go back inside and stops dead, his heart skipping several beats before starting up again, a staccato rhythm inside his chest.

 _Jihoon_.

He is different, somehow. Cleaner. More refined. He is wearing a _suit_. But his face is the same; still sharp and pale, his eyes still a dull red.

They stare at each other, unable to find the words. Taeil opens his mouth, but they are stuck somewhere below his bellybutton, writhing like snakes.

He manages to choke one out through his throat, squeezing it so it comes out sounding squashed. “Why?”

Jihoon’s expression changes at the sound of his voice. He crumples, right before Taeil’s eyes, kneeling on the ground, his suit getting all dirty, a bloody tear working its way down his cheek. “I can still feel you, Taeil. For 6 months, you were still with me.”

Taeil narrows his eyes and turns away, looks at the leaves beneath his feet. “I couldn’t feel you.”

Jihoon lets out a choked sob, the sound so gut-wrenching Taeil finds himself drawn to the kneeling man, his hands going around the back of Jihoon’s head, holding him close, whispering sweet nothings and stroking Jihoon, who is now clinging onto Taeil like he is a life raft.

//

The cabin is the same, he realizes. A few photos on the desk are gone, but it smells the same, it smells like _Taeil_ , and Jihoon doesn’t realize how much he has missed it.

Taeil stands at the counter holding a mug of tea he made for himself, staring openly at Jihoon. It makes him nervous.

“So. Why now? Why after 6 months did you decide to come back?” He says, his voice flat and dull.

Jihoon just wants to reach for him, touch him, _have_ him, but he restrains himself. His hand twitches. “I…” He looks around. Maybe there is a respite from this conversation hidden in the cabin somewhere, but if there is, it’s not presenting itself. “I don’t know.”

Taeil’s knuckles go white as he grips the mug, and Jihoon feels his rage flow through him. He knows what is coming before Taeil even realizes he is doing it, and closes his eyes as the human throws tea in his face.

He wipes his face, spitting out the tea that got in his mouth, and speaks truthfully. “This place is my home. _You_ are my home.”

Taeil pauses, his hands shaking as he holds the now-empty mug, and Jihoon feels it. A tiny spark of hope.

//

“You are my home.” Jihoon says, his face earnest and open.

Taeil closes his eyes, ignoring his shaking hands. He can _feel_ Jihoon again, feel the presence in his head, not just physically, and it’s so comforting. He doesn’t realize how much he has missed it.

When he opens his eyes, Jihoon is right in front of him, and gently, he takes the mug from his hands and puts it down on the counter. Taeil just stares, unable to comprehend that those ruby eyes are in front of him, back where they belong.

Jihoon reaches out and strokes his cheek and despite himself, despite the promises he made to himself the past 6 months ( _if he ever comes back I will have a stake ready and I will plunge it through his heart_ ) he feels his resolve disappear like the tea he has just thrown and he leans into Jihoon’s hand, sighs.

“Why did you really leave?” He whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

“I was scared.” Jihoon replies, and his eyes snap back open, surprised.

“Scared? You? You’re not scared of anything. Nothing can hurt you.” Taeil questions, disbelieving.

Jihoon smiles sadly, one shoulder rising in a shrug. “You can.”

Taeil’s heart all but stops and he forgets how to breathe. He can see Jihoon coming closer, his eyes silently asking permission as he bends down and gently, oh-so-sweetly presses a kiss to Taeil’s mouth.

Before he knows what he is doing, as his brain asks ‘ _are you sure about this?_ ’ he slides his hands underneath Jihoon’s jacket, and kisses him back. Their mouths part and close, and as Jihoon touches his tongue to Taeil’s, he untucks Jihoon’s shirt and slides his hands up the expanse of the vampire’s back.

With a quiet _pop_ , Jihoon’s fangs slide out. Taeil hesitates, but raises his head to Jihoon’s again; the added sensation of the fangs on his lips, pressing down hard, heightens his senses. He moans quietly into Jihoon’s mouth, feels Jihoon growl in response.

All of a sudden Jihoon’s hands are on his waist, trailing down to his hips, and come to a stop at the waistband of his pyjama pants, where he hesitates. Taeil is exploding from the inside out, he wants Jihoon to rip him open, so he thrusts his hips forward and whimpers.

Jihoon’s hand slides down and cups his erection and he nearly faints at the feeling of Jihoon’s cool skin _there_ and he gasps and bucks as the vampire begins stroking, falling into a perfect rhythm neither of them knew existed.

“Can I bite you?” Jihoon whispers throatily into Taeil’s ear and he doesn’t respond, only turns his head so his neck is exposed.

The vampire bites, gently, and the combined sensations of the pleasure from the bite and the way Jihoon is working with his hands – _where did he learn to do that?_ – is too much, he is coming close now. He is whispering nonsense – “please don’t stop, oh, God, Jihoon, please –” but Jihoon is growling in his ear as he draws more and more blood.

“I’ve waited so long for this…” He whispers, and that’s all it takes, Taeil lets the shudders run through him as the orgasm rocks his body to the core.

“Yes, Taeil, yes. Come for me.” Jihoon whispers, coaxing him through it, and when it’s over and Jihoon’s hand is sticky with come, Taeil pushes him down onto the bed, crawls on top of him, and bites.

//

The sensations are coming hard and fast, and combined with Taeil’s emotions – which are going crazy – he is almost overwhelmed.

But not quite.

As Taeil draws blood from his neck, as he feels the human’s hands fiddling with his belt, as he moans and grasps his hair, he knows he is home now. He is safe.

//

Afterwards, when Taeil is slumped against the wall, eyelids flickering slightly, Jihoon takes a deep breath, reaching for his shirt where it lies on the floor, lost in the carnage. And waits.

//

Taeil blinks, swimming back to consciousness slowly, drearily.

“We should be more careful. You nearly made me a vampire.” He jokes, weakly, then pauses. “How do you make a vampire?”

Jihoon slides down the wall next to him, takes Taeil’s hand. “I would have to drain you almost entirely, and then feed you my blood until you were full. After three days you would rise again.”

Taeil shudders involuntarily. “But you have nearly drained me twice now.” He whispers, leaning his head on Jihoon’s shoulder, snuggling closer.

“I know. We should be more careful from now on. Unless…” Jihoon lets his sentence trail off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air, like rain about to fall.

Taeil nestles his head in further to the crook of Jihoon’s neck and sighs. “No. I like being human.”

Jihoon squeezes his hand reassuringly. “Then we will find a way.”

Taeil kisses Jihoon’s neck, right where Jihoon had bit him not long ago, and smiles. “I missed you, you know.”

Jihoon looks down, meets Taeil’s eyes, his fangs out. “I missed you, too.”

“Are you staying?” Taeil’s voice is small, so small he sounds like a scared child, but he knows Jihoon hears it, because he kisses Taeil on the top of the head.

“Yes. I shouldn’t have left in the first place.” He whispers, and Taeil smiles, a secret thing he tucks away somewhere inside.

After all he has been through – the death of his wife, moving away from his parents – Taeil had hardly expected to find solace in the arms of a vampire, but just like that research paper said, he is intoxicated and addicted. The animal nature of Jihoon, the goemul, is scary and exhilarating at the same time.

They stay like that until dawn threatens to break, not talking, just touching.

After all, they’ve got all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to every single person who read this, commented on this, liked this... whatever. This is my most popular fic to date (I honestly don't know why) and to every single person who encouraged me... thank you. I love you. You guys are why I do this.


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